by Alexa Riley
“I’m warm because I’m baking.” I place the cookie balls on the baking sheet and slide them into the oven. I make my way over to the sink and wash the rest of the dough off my hands.
“What’s with the blank PS?”
I shrug, having wondered myself. Then her gaze darts over to the Polaroid camera sitting on the counter, and her eyes widen.
“You were going to take a picture!”
“Was not,” I lie.
“You freaking liar. How many have you taken already and trashed?”
I scrunch my face at her and glare, but she just bursts out laughing. Because she’s right. There are about twenty pictures in the trash can at this very moment.
“Let me do it. Come on. I’ll make sure you look hot.”
“I changed my mind. Besides, it’s not about looking hot. We’re just pen pals.”
“The man wants a pic. He’s serving our country. I feel it’s your duty to let me take a picture of you to send him. Just think about the poor man over there, pining away for a picture of you.” She says it like she really feels sorry for the guy, but hell if it doesn’t work.
“Fine,” I yield. I like the idea of giving him what he asked for. It’s just a picture. Not like I’ll ever meet him or have to see the look on his face when he sees it for the first time.
Tammy claps happily and picks up the camera.
“Show me those pearly whites.”
I tilt my head and give her a smile. The camera clicks, and the picture pops out. She waves it in the air, wanting it to develop faster.
“Perfect,” she says, and hands it to me. “The warm glow you’re rocking really shows. Now he has something to spank it to.”
“Shut your mouth!” I shout, not believing he would masturbate to a picture of me.
“Oh, yeah.” She nods her head like she knows for a fact he will be spanking it to a picture of me. While I don’t believe it would ever happen, I secretly love the idea that he’d get off to a picture of me. That I’d fuel his late-night fantasies like he’s been doing to me for the last few days.
Tammy gets up from her seat and grabs a plate of cookies I made earlier. “Got to get home. Steve will be home in a little bit. Might try out the wall thing.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Send the pic. Live a little. It’s fun.”
With that, she’s out the door.
I sit down and pull out a piece of paper, and I write while I wait for the last batch of cookies to bake.
Mark,
I’d love for you to call me Katie. I hear ‘Miss Lovely’ all day at school, and it’s a nice change. I love teaching, but high-school students can wear on you from time to time. Even with that, though, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. I like thinking that I might have an impact on someone’s life and help shape them into who they grow up to be.
You are a hundred percent right. The weather is crazy hot during the summer, but I make my own homemade ice cream, which could cool anyone down. If you’re ever around this way during the summer, I’ll have to make some for you.
As for me, I’m as single as can be and don’t have any kids. I’m not even sure I’ve ever even been on a proper date. I’m horribly shy with men, and even writing this letter is a little hard for me.
You asked about traveling. I haven’t done much myself. I keep telling myself I’ll go somewhere big during the next summer break and spend a month or so away. For some reason I just never do it. Maybe because I don’t want to do it alone. One of the downsides to being single, I guess. It’s hard to pull your girlfriends away for a month-long trip when they’re married. I don’t blame them, though. I’m sure if I had a husband, I wouldn’t want to leave him for a month, either.
I baked you some cookies. Like you, I’m a chocolate, chocolate chip kind of person. These ones are loaded with lots of chocolate. My policy is you can never have too much chocolate in your cookies. I’ve also slipped in a few other treats I’ve been testing out. You’ll have to let me know what you think.
As for animals, I am indeed a cat lady. Well, maybe not a ‘cat lady,’ per se. Is there a number you have to have to be a cat lady? I’ve only got one, but I’ve been tempted to get another. Although now you have me thinking about a puppy. I’m just not sure I could handle one. I hear you have to be firm with them, and I’m not sure that’s a personality trait I can have with a cute little puppy. With my students, yes, but I think puppy-dog eyes would do me in, and you’d soon find me making homemade puppy treats!
I promise, none of the treats I’ve sent are puppy treats!
I know you can’t tell me where you are or what you’re doing, but I’m curious what you do in your free time. I seem to find myself wondering about that. Maybe it’s because you described yourself to me and I’m trying to fully picture you.
As for what I look like, you can thank my friend Tammy for the picture I’ve included. She took the pic and insisted I send it. Like I said, I’m shy, and I need a little encouragement from time to time. She might have also stolen a few of your cookies.
Enjoy your treats, and I can’t wait to hear from you again.
Katie xoxoxo
PS…you forgot your PS last time.
Chapter Four
Mark
Opening the box, I realize for the first time in a long time that I’m excited about something. It’s not that I’m unhappy with my life or myself, it’s just that my life is somewhat predictable and planned out. It just so happens that Katie’s letter is the first thing that has shaken me up in quite some time.
I’ve read and reread her first letter over and over. It’s worn from all the times I’ve held it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean a lot to me.
Inside the box is a small envelope with my name written on it. It’s in her perfect handwriting, and I pick up the rectangle of paper, running my fingers over my name. Something about seeing it written by her makes me feel something I can’t describe. It’s like a closeness to her, which I didn’t expect from a perfect stranger.
Under the letter is a sealed box, and I pull it out and open it. The smell of chocolate invades my senses and makes my mouth water. I turn around and look over my shoulder to make sure no one else is anywhere near so that I’ve got all these babies to myself. I should probably share, but I find myself wanting everything to do with Katie to stay close to me.
I grab a cookie and pop it into my mouth while I grab the box and letter and walk over to my desk. The delicious treat melts in my mouth, and I moan loudly at the sweet taste. Sitting down at the desk, I realize my cock is hard as a rock. From eating a fucking cookie.
Goddamn, she better be single, because I’ve never seen the woman and I want to marry her. She got my cock hard with a box of cookies. I can’t begin to imagine the possibilities.
Carefully, I open her letter, pull out the paper, and read it. I can feel my face nearly break in two at her opening words, already feeling close to her.
I try not to rush, taking my time and savoring every word. When I get to the line when she says she’s single, I literally pump my fist in the air.
“Fuck yeah!” I shout into the empty room.
She says there’s a picture included, and I search the envelope for it.
“Holy shit.” I almost drop the picture. The smoking-hot redhead looking back at me cannot possibly be real. She’s a fucking knockout. I walk over to my door and lock it before returning to my desk. It’s not twenty seconds from the time I see her picture to when I’m sitting at my desk and stroking my cock. I look into her eyes while I fist myself up and down, squeezing tight as I look at her rosy cheeks and picture her under me. The small hint of cleavage at the top of her cardigan makes it all the sexier. Just that tiny bit makes me crave her even more as I imagine tasting her there.
I grunt out my orgasm, and cum runs down my cock and over the knuckles of my clenched fist. I’ve made a mess of myself, and I can’t be bothered to care. She’s so fucking gorgeous, I had no choice. I had to beat off so I could t
hink straight. And even now, just seconds after cumming, I’m still hard as a rock and wanting to go again.
“Letter. I need to write a letter.” I give myself a pep talk as I clean up and try to come back down to earth. Goddamn, that was intense.
Sitting back down at my desk, I read Katie’s letter about a dozen more times as I eat her cookies. I’m making myself sick with how fast I’m eating them, but I can’t make myself stop. I know I’ll regret it when they’re gone, but right now they’re amazing and I won’t quit.
Once I know what I’m going to say, I start writing.
Dear Katie,
I’ve heard the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so I’m just going to go ahead and send it to you in this letter. Your cookies are fantastic! How do you not own your own bakery? I’ve eaten almost all of them and the box arrived about ten minutes ago. I should be ashamed of that, but I’m not. Thank you for sending them. You have no idea what they did to me.
As for this little picture you sent me, I’m having a hard time making you out clearly. Do you think you could send me a few more? Maybe my eyesight has been affected by the incredible beauty looking back at me, but I could be mistaken. I’ll need at least five more pictures of you to compare. For science.
But in all seriousness. You’re gorgeous, and I’m supremely glad you’re single. I’d hate to have to take out the competition.
I’ve included two pics of me. One from combat out in the desert next to a tank, and the other is my military picture taken of me in my dress blues. The Marine Corps ball is held every year on the Marine Corps birthday, and if you’re home you’re required to attend. I’ve always just gone alone, but I guarantee with you on my arm, there would be a scene.
I don’t have a lot of free time, but when I do have it I work out and try to sleep. We all take long watches that go through the night, so when I’ve got time, I try to rest up and keep my body in shape. I’m more obsessed about it now because I’m on active duty, but I have a feeling if I was home, I might be spending my time sitting outside your kitchen window, begging for scraps.
When I’m on watch, I spend a lot of time thinking. And to be honest, I’ve spent a good portion of that time lately thinking of you. I don’t know what it says about me to admit that, but for some reason it feels like I want to tell you everything that pops into my head.
I think you’d be an adorable little mama to a puppy, but I think you’ll need someone to be the heavy if you can’t do it. Wonder where you could find such a man…
Now, let’s get to know one another…tell me everything.
Mark
And I didn’t forget the PS. Just not sure you’re ready to read it yet.
PS…
Chapter Five
Katie
“Come on, show them to me.” Tammy wiggles her eyebrows at me like she’s asking me to show her my goodies. And I don’t mean the last batch of baked goods I just pulled out of the oven.
“No, they’re private.” I can feel my face warming just talking about the letters.
“Oh, my God. Are they dirty?!” Her face lights up like she just struck gold.
“No, not really.” They really aren’t dirty at all. Maybe a few innuendoes here and there. One time I did admit to never having been with a man. I seem to be willing to tell him everything about myself, no matter how embarrassing it might be.
“Then what’s with the blush?” She grabs her wine off the coffee table and takes a sip, leaning back on the sofa.
Tammy, as usual, kind of popped up on me. I usually keep all of Mark’s letters in box in the living room, but I had them all splayed out on the coffee table as I reread each one while drinking a glass of wine. It’s something I find myself doing more and more often these days. My Kindle hasn’t been switched on in weeks.
I’d hurriedly gathered them up, putting them back safely into the box while she eyed me, helping herself to her own glass of wine.
Now we’re both sitting on the sofa as she tries to pry about Mark. I share everything with Tammy, but for some reason the letters are now off-limits. They’re mine, and I don’t want to share. I’ve never been jealous over a man before. The feeling is strange and oddly enough, I like it.
“I think I’m in love with him,” I admit, feeling a little silly. I’ve never even met the man.
“You think?” She says it with a teasing laugh, but I can’t seem to join in.
I just bite my lip, not sure what to do at this point.
“You don’t think it’s silly I’m in love with a man I’ve never met?”
Her eyes soften at my question. Placing her glass back down on the table, she turns to look at me.
“No, it’s not silly. It’s sweet. I don’t know what he’s writing in those letters, but it’s...” she pauses, looking for the right words, “changed you.”
“Changed me?” I repeat, not sure what she means.
“In a good way. You’ve been happier and you’ve come out of your shell. Whatever he’s doing or saying to you, it kinda makes you glow.”
My face warms at her words.
“He called me,” I blurt out. I hadn’t planned on telling her. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to keep that to myself, too. Or maybe I was worried she might get all judgy. People always seem to have an opinion about things, and I just hadn’t wanted anything to dampen this. I’ve been so happy, and I didn't want to jinx it.
I knew I’d felt happier lately. I just didn’t know it was noticeable. I hadn’t realized others could see it in me, too.
“Oh, really?” Her teasing humor is back, and it makes me smile.
“He said he finally got somewhere he could call me from. Told me he was in Ireland for a few days. We talked for three hours.”
“You gotta give me something here.”
“We talk about everything and nothing.” We really do. We used to operate by writing one letter and waiting for a response and then sending one back. Now I find myself writing him every day. Almost like I’m writing him a diary and sending it to him.
“Sounds like a relationship to me.”
I wish. He’s never said anything like that. I know he’s single. Don’t those guys get to base and hookup with women and stuff? I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I wish I was more like Tammy and could’ve made a teasing joke about it, but my shyness still gets the best of me, even with him sometimes.
I’d nudged him a little to see if he was going to go out. He told me he was doing exactly what he wanted to be doing—talking on the phone to me.
It made me feel warm and fuzzy all over.
I just shrug at Tammy’s comment. No matter how much I wish that were true, it’s not. We’re just friends.
“Didn’t you mention he’d be getting out soon?”
Her reminder sends a knot of dread rushing to the pit of my stomach, crushing all my butterflies.
“Yeah,” I mutter, picking up my own glass of wine and taking a few big gulps.
“I can’t wait to meet him!” She grabs the bottle of wine and tops us both off.
“I don’t know about that.”
“Come on. As much as you two talk, you can’t still be shy around him. I know you sent him more photos of yourself.”
I did, and Tammy had taken them for me. He asked for them, and I sent them in the next letter, wanting him to have them, pushing past my shyness for him. I’m almost sure there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do if he asked. He’s made a few side comments about traveling here, but nothing solid.
“I don’t even know if we’ll write once he gets out. That’s the whole point of this. I write him because he’s in the Marines. That’s the point of the program.”
It’s what I’ve been dreading. What if we stop writing when he retires? Never hearing from him again would hurt. No, it would more than hurt. I’ve formed an intense attachment to him and losing it...
“Oh, come on.” Tammy slaps my shoulder, pulling me from my depressing thoughts. “A man doesn’t write you like
this,” she picks up the box of letters, giving it a little shake, “and then just quit.”
I cling to that sliver of hope. Maybe she’s right. The kids in the program don’t get letters like I do. Most get maybe one a month. I’ve been getting about four a week.
I take the box from her and place it in my lap. Either way, I’ll always have these to hold on to.
Chapter Six
Mark
I smile as I kiss the letter and put it in the box with the others. It’s been almost a year since we started writing, and I’m packing up all of Katie’s letters to take with me back home.
Home.
It’s been so long since I’ve been excited about that word. Now it means more than just a destination or a country. It means getting to see Katie.
I never thought I could care this much about someone I’ve never met. But it feels as if the letters have taken away all of the bullshit and left us with nothing but simple truth. It feels like I’ve come alive, and for the first time in my life, I’m on the right path.
The path to Katie.
Our letters have turned into so much more than just saying hello and answering questions. I’ve written out quotes from authors I love, and I’ve sent her poems written by greater men than I. It’s the only way I can say ‘I love you’ in a letter to her. Because the first time I say it to her, I want to say it to her in person. I want her in my arms the first time she hears it from me. Because I do. I’m hopelessly in love with her.
Every letter, she asks me about the PS and why I leave it blank. I’m going to tell her, and I’m going to say all the words I’ve been holding back, saving them for when I can say them against her lips.
“Sergeant Major, the squad is ready.” Riggs says as he grabs my bag and carries it out of the room. I place the bundle of Katie’s letters in my daypack and sling it over my shoulder. I’m keeping the essentials with me as we travel back home, the rest of my stuff going into cargo.
